


wacko danger-sex

by t34lbloods (perculious)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-30
Updated: 2013-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-25 03:23:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/948043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perculious/pseuds/t34lbloods
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this: "I really buy that Jake would be into hilariously improbable sex positions he would want their sex to be BADASS and CHALLENGING like SEX IN A HURRICANE"</p>
            </blockquote>





	wacko danger-sex

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted here: http://t34lbloods.tumblr.com/post/45004203997/as-you-wish-mika-i-forgot-to-put-this-in-so

"Is this where it clips on, Dirk, my mechanically-inclined swain?"

"No, no. Fuck, Jake, you want me to end up with the cord wrapped around my dick?" Dirk inches forward on the tree branch to clip the cable himself, his fingers cold and clumsy from the LOMAX air. It makes no sense for him to be getting annoyed, because it was Jake’s fucking idea and it’s Jake’s fucking wacko danger-sex fetish, but it’s Dirk’s harness, and Jake cannot wrap his mind around it. Or more accurately, cannot wrap it around his body properly so they can have their upside-down freaky Batman sex and get it over with.

Dirk manages to get the cable clipped and sits back on his heels on the tree branch. Jake is swaying gently in the breeze like a windchime, suspended from another cable about a foot to the side. He’s hanging onto the cable with one hand to keep him upright and, theoretically, able to help with the rest of the set-up. When he lets go, he’ll flip over like a flapjack.

"You can’t put a foot wrong, here. We’re dealing with the touchiest sexual coefficients this side of the Incipisphere. You fuck with the cords, and you’re gonna end up trying to broach the tender virgin canal of my eardrum."

"I’m not trying to fuck with your goldarn cords, Strider! I’m just trying to help out so I’m not sitting on my bum like a waster waiting for you and twiddling my thumbs like a fellow whose butler got waylaid on the way to butler island!"

"Okay, okay." Dirk tugs at the cord, testing its tensile strength. He’s lashed this together out of twine from Jake’s house, robo-parts from his, and some bones he found in caves from imps that fell apart in ways that didn’t turn them into shining piles of grist. It only took about six hours, and he can’t say he’s that into whatever Jake’s proposing, but it does give him a thrill that you might as well call sexual to sit back and look at what he’s created.

"Get down here already!!" Jake says, kicking his legs a little to increase his swinging radius.

Dirk takes the leap of faith and eases his feet off the branch, dropping down so he’s hanging by one hand. There’s a slight uptick in his heartbeat as he pries his fingers off the branch, other hand firmly gripping the cord, but he’s the one who built it, so he knows there’s no real danger. Hopefully it’s enough manufactured drama to get Jake’s sexy flesh katana up and running.

Dirk would be a little hurt that Jake only wants to fuck him when they’re halfway to death, except that Jake never wants to do anything unless there’s a chance of fatal injury. It’s either movies on the couch, or leaping across chasms; those are Jake’s only two settings, and a little teenage hanky-panky and fumbling around inside each other’s boxers makes him yawn unless there’s a monster with teeth like steak knives making a good case for finishing up quick.

"Okay, on three," he says. Jake stops kicking and tightens his grip on the cord, his eyes wide.

On three they release and flip upside down, and Dirk allows himself the hint of a smile. They’re perfectly aligned, despite some swaying—if Dirk reaches back and holds Jake’s hips still, Jake’s groin is perfectly nestled against his ass. Assuming Jake can get the lube out of his sylladex without dropping it, which isn’t a safe assumption at all, they might actually pull this off.

There’s a tell-tale silence from Jake’s end that makes Dirk close his eyes, feeling his brain do the mental version of a groan.

"Not scary enough?" he says.

"It’s not that," Jake says quickly. "It’s just… well, it’s just a little expected! I mean, I was waiting there for you forever like a newlywed in her boudoir! Where is the excitement?"

"Fine," Dirk says. "I have an idea, okay?"

It takes them a few minutes to shimmy back up to the tree branch, and fifteen more to hoist themselves up a few more branches until they’re an appropriate dropping distance, by which point Dirk’s dick is decidedly over this. But now it’s more about solving the problem than sex, and if they get this right, the satisfactory thrill should be enough to kick up the party.

"On three," he says again, but Jake goes at two. Dirk follows him, bungee-ing off the tree branch like the laws of gravity aren’t a thing. When he hits bottom, his legs jerk upwards and his head swings down, and Jake pulls him close from behind and moves his hand to Dirk's cock.

They’re still swaying unsteadily, but Jake’s adrena-rection is a go, so Dirk twines an ankle around Jake’s calf and thinks about screwing together aluminum panels to get himself going faster. It sounds like Jake’s managed to get out the lube without fumbling, so they’ve got maybe thirty minutes to get this done before Dirk has to think of a new sex rig. Sometimes trying to turn Jake English on feels like trying to cure the hiccups. Dirk sort of fucking loves him, though, so he closes his eyes and pushes back against him, luxuriating in the rough warmth of his palm.

Jake groans behind him, and Dirk swallows hard. Yeah, no, it’s worth it.


End file.
